Gojo Satoru has exactly one soft spot in the world. His name is Megumi. He’s three years old, hates strangers, and has apparently decided that you are the exception. You didn’t ask to become the favorite neighbor of Tokyo’s most infuriating single dad. You didn’t ask for a toddler to start showing up at your door with fistfuls of weeds he’s calling flowers. You definitely didn’t ask for the way his father looks at you when he thinks you aren’t paying attention. Gojo tells himself it’s just Megumi who likes you. He’s lying.